


When you don't answer

by Robin_tCJ



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Steve Rogers, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting, Smut, Tony Stark in panties, Top Tony Stark, dirty voicemails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/pseuds/Robin_tCJ
Summary: Steve's in an important meeting. An important meeting with SHIELD and the WSC. So why is Tony texting him? And worse, why is Tony texting him dirty pictures?Steve, who is not an idiot, turns off his phone.He'll pay for that.





	When you don't answer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FestiveFerret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/gifts), [shetlandowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetlandowl/gifts), [sappuppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sappuppet/gifts), [willidothefandango (nagth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagth/gifts).



> This lives in that nebulous Happy Domestic Avengers time we never really got to see in canon. Coulson isn't dead, everyone lives in the tower, nothing bad has ever really happened, they're just a happy team. And Steve and Tony are together. And there's no plot here, seriously.
> 
> This is thanks to the coercion (I thought about striking that out and calling it something else but that would be a LIE) of the following members of the MCU Stony Discord server, Put On The Suit:  
> FestiveFerret  
> shetlandowl  
> sappuppet  
> willidothefandango  
> and [marvicious](https://www.tumblr.com/search/marvicious) (I linked here because they don't seem to have an Ao3 account so I can't tag them as a gift recipient)
> 
> You should all be ashamed of yourselves, probably. Or I should be. One of us probably should be. AND YET.
> 
> This is ALSO a fill for my FREE square on my Cap-IM Bingo card, because I guess I should start filling spaces in there eventually.

Steve walks into the boardroom with his back straight and his shoulders back. It's not his first meeting with the World Security Council – these days it seems like he's having to talk to them every couple of weeks. 

But today's meeting agenda is a long one, and he knows he's going to be tired by the time it's over. So he straightens his spine and he walks into the room as though he owns the place, just like Tony's taught him. 

The room is full of high-ranking SHIELD personnel. Nick Fury and Maria Hill are there, and so are Phil Coulson, Natasha and Clint. There are a few more people around the conference table, but Steve doesn't think he's met them before. They must be from different satellite offices. 

They're spread over one half of the table. The other side of the table has no chairs for anyone to sit – instead, there are holo-pads lined up along that side of the room, and the projectors around the room are all shining in their direction to project holograms of the members of the WSC so it seems they're in the room. 

Steve thinks it's excessive – Tony had showed him the technology for video conferencing. They could be doing this with computer monitors, even with cell phones. Instead, there are projections of WSC members in the SHIELD board room, and Steve knows that in each of their offices, the rest of the conference room is also being projected as a hologram. He doesn't know why they have to pretend they're all in the same room – it's a waste of resources. 

"Captain," Nick greets him with a slight nod of his head. 

"Director," Steve greets him back, with the same slight nod. 

"I can't believe I beat you here," Clint says with a grin. "Can you believe I beat you here?" 

"You only beat him here because I dragged you from an earlier meeting and kept you locked in this room for 20 minutes," Coulson says mildly, not looking up from his paperwork. 

"Aw, c'mon, Sir. Why you gotta throw me under the bus like that?" 

"It's the only joy I get out of every day," Coulson tells him. 

Steve fights down a smile. He likes Coulson – even more now, a year after the Chitauri attack that they'd thought had killed him. He'd been stiff and serious then. He's still stiff and serious, but every once in a while that dry wit snaps out like a weapon in someone's direction (rarely Steve's) and it's a joy to watch. 

"We're all here, then?" asks the hologram of Councilwoman Hawley. 

"All present and accounted for," Hill says, hands flashing and sliding over her tablet. "Shall we get started?" 

The meeting starts as they all do – with a brief summary of the last few weeks' worth of SHIELD business. They touch on some Avengers missions, but Fury does what he can to keep the WSC out of Avengers business. Steve's only here because of his unique position as the leader of the Avengers and his position in the SHIELD Strike Team ranks. 

Things are just starting to not be at all interesting when Steve's phone vibrates, rather loudly, in his pocket. He's glad he'd remembered to silence the ringer. 

He smoothly moves to slip it out of his pocket and checks the front screen. It's a text message from Tony, so Steve slides his thumb across the bar at the bottom to open it. 

He nearly chokes and drops the phone on the table in front of him. 

It's just a photo, with no text included. The problem is that it's a picture of Tony – Tony dressed only in a pair of lacy red panties. He's got one hand draped provocatively across the arc reactor, and the other is draped over his own hip, drawing Steve's eye instantly to his half-hard erection bulging out of the lacy red fabric. 

Tony's lying on their bed, body arched, eyes half-closed and a sinful smirk across his face. 

Steve slams the phone face-down on the table too hard, interrupting Councilman Yen's diatribe about international waters and whether SHIELD has a place in them. Everyone stops and turns to look at him. 

He can feel his face heat up, feel the blush staining his cheeks like a beacon. 

"Captain Rogers? There a problem?" Fury asks, tilting his head back so he can study Steve down the length of his nose. 

"No. Sorry. It's nothing," Steve says, and his voice cracks a little with the lie. He reaches out, puts his hand back over the phone protectively, then slowly slides it off the table and into his lap. Everyone in the room – and the holograms – stare at him for a moment, before going back to what they were saying. 

After a moment, Steve turns the phone over and looks at the picture again. 

Tony is _gorgeous_ like this. His toned muscles, his smooth skin, the way the light of the reactor highlights the dips and valleys of his body. His hips are turned just enough to give Steve a hint of his gorgeous, perfectly rounded rear. 

Steve blinks at it for a moment, trying not to let the flicker of arousal low in his belly get any further than it already is. 

He glances around the room to make sure no one can see the screen of his phone and then types out a reply. 

_I'm in a meeting, Tony. You can't send me things like this when I'm in a meeting._

The response comes back from Tony almost immediately. 

_I think you'll find I CAN, on account of the fact I just DID._

Steve bites his lip to stop the grin. He's about to send back a cheeky reply when another photo comes through. 

This time, Tony's still wearing the panties, but he's slipped one hand inside them to cradle his balls, and his cock is half-out, fully erect now. Steve's mouth waters a little, and he just barely manages to hold in a whimper. Tony's other hand in the photo is pinching at one of his own nipples, and Steve can almost _hear_ the sinful, sensual moan Tony would be making. 

_Tony! I can't look at these! I'm in a meeting!_

_Oh, sugarlips. I'm not even half done yet_ , Tony replies. 

Steve blinks at the message and he knows, deep in his bones, that he needs to stop reading his texts _right now_ until the end of the meeting. 

+++++ 

The seventh time his phone buzzes in his pocket, Fury glares at him. 

"Are we keeping you from something important, Captain?" 

"No, Sir," Steve says, refusing to even pull the phone out of his pocket. Everyone in the room can hear it vibrating, and Steve can feel his cheeks heating up. 

The phone buzzes again. And again. And again and again. It's clearly a phone call – Steve pulls it out of his pocket while pretending to ignore that everyone is turning to stare at him. He glances down, just for a second, and sees that yes, it is Tony calling. 

He hits the 'ignore' button and slips the phone back in his pocket. After a moment he thinks better of it and pulls it back out, powering the phone down and putting it away. 

If anything _truly_ catastrophic occurs, JARVIS will let him know. 

+++++ 

The meeting takes another few hours. Of course, Tony doesn't wait that long to be a pain in Steve's ass. About 20 minutes after he'd turned his phone off, Clint gets a text message. He opens it up and smirks, turning the screen to show it to Steve. 

_Tell Steve to check his phone, I sent him a picture_. 

It's from Tony. 

Steve's embarrassed flush reaches new levels. 

He does not, however, turn his phone back on to check it. 

Through the meeting, Tony texts Natasha, Fury, and even Hill, all with messages along the same lines: Tell Steve to look at the pictures I'm sending him. 

Steve wants to fall through a hole in the floor – everyone has to know by now that the photos Tony is sending him aren't something for the general public to consume. He's going out of his way to wind Steve up. 

When Coulson's phone vibrates, Steve decides he can't take it anymore. If Tony is going to start harassing Coulson, it means he's completely lost it. If Tony gets any more impatient, he's liable to just stroll in through the boardroom doors wearing nothing but those red panties and a smile. 

Coulson checks the message, but he doesn't show it to Steve. He doesn't show it to anyone. He just types back a quick response, still listening studiously to Councilman Yen's impassioned but ultimately boring speech. His phone buzzes again, and Coulson reads the message. One corner of his mouth twitches almost imperceptibly, which, for Coulson, is as good as a belly-laugh. He types again, then turns his phone face down on the table. 

When Yen pauses to take a breath, Coulson clears his throat, ever so carefully. All eyes turn to him, and he gives them all a mild, deferential smile – one which Steve knows from experience is carefully crafted bullshit. 

"I think that's quite enough for today," he says, packing up his papers and tablet in front of him. "We've all got a fair amount to consider after this." 

There are protests from Yen and Hawley, but the SHIELD and Avengers personnel in the room with Steve all look somewhat relieved. 

Steve is the first out of the room, headed straight up to the Avengers personal floors and the penthouse suite. Tony has some explaining to do. 

Of course, even though Steve takes the elevator, walks up the hallway, and storms into their bedroom with as much authority and righteousness as he can muster, he's stopped short by the sight that greets him when he gets to his and Tony's shared bedroom. 

Tony is lying on the bed, on his side. He's got his head propped up by one hand while the other is in front of him, fiddling with a tablet. 

He's naked, save for the lacy red panties he's clearly been wearing all day. 

"What took you so long, handsome?" Tony asks, eyes twinkling. "I've been calling for hours." 

"You – you _bastard_ ," Steve says, torn between jumping on the bed so he can jump Tony, and laughing at the absurdity of it all – that Tony had really spent the better part of his day sending Steve risque photos, text messages, and phone calls. 

Tony rolls onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. 

"I think you're missing the point of this, Steve," he says, one eyebrow quirking in a way that's both teasing and precise. "I tried calling you multiple times. I sat up here and _waited_ for you, all day." 

Steve blinks, catching on right away. His cock hardens in his slacks, and he doesn't miss the way Tony's hardens under the lace of his panties. 

"You're right," Steve says, not trying to sound apologetic at all. "I'm real sorry." 

"I don't think an apology is going to cut it," Tony says, fluidly jumping up off the bed and standing. He stalks his way toward Steve, slowly circles him while trailing one warm, calloused hand over Steve's shoulders. "In fact, I think I might have to punish you." 

Steve feels a shiver of desire go through him, and he can't do much more than nod. 

"That's right, honey," Tony croons, standing behind Steve and placing a hand between his shoulder blades. He pushes gently, guiding Steve toward the bed. "Now, take off your clothes and lie down. And don't keep me waiting any longer than I already have, hm?" 

Steve snorts but does as he's told, stripping his shirt off quickly and unbuttoning his pants even as he moves toward the bed. He shoves them down and crawls onto the bed, pulling his socks off as he goes. 

Tony is standing right where Steve left him, arms crossed as he watches. "Are you finished?" He manages to sound just slightly impatient, as though Steve had taken an inordinate amount of time to undress and get on the bed. It makes warmth curl in Steve's belly. 

Steve doesn't get a chance to respond, though, before Tony is crawling up on the bed beside him, pushing Steve down onto his back. He reaches for the bedside table and pulls out the adamantium cuffs they keep for special occasions, and he grins as he secures Steve's wrists to the head rail. 

"Oh, the humanity," Steve says, deadpan. 

"Quiet, you," Tony says, fingers dancing up Steve's ribs, managing to find every ticklish spot there. 

Steve can't help but jerk away, laughing. 

Tony looks him over, eyes lingering on Steve's erection, and Steve shifts his hips invitingly. 

"Don't get too excited there, Cap," Tony says, smile sharpening. "I said you'd earned a punishment, and I meant it." 

"Well, then, by all means," Steve says with a deferring nod of his head. 

Tony slides away from him then, and stands up beside the bed. Steve instantly misses the heat of his skin, the proximity, but Tony has always been particularly creative, so Steve is sure he won't mind where this is going. 

Sure enough, Tony is true to form. He stands at the foot of the bed, staring at Steve, looking up and down his body as he reaches into the red panties he's wearing and starts to touch himself. He starts with teasing strokes, at first – a loose grip stroking up and down, then letting go of himself to massage his balls. Steve watches hungrily as Tony's cock responds to his own touch, hardening and plumping, the head slipping out the waistband of his panties as he grows to full erection. 

"What, is my punishment going to be to have to watch you jerk yourself off until you come in your own panties? You're gonna have to do better than that, Stark." Steve tries to sound unaffected by the sight in front of him, but he can't quite hide the note of strain in his voice, because Tony looks delectable like this. 

"You know," Tony says, the words drawn out in a way that makes it sound like he's trying to pretend – poorly – that he's only just thought of his next words. "You're awfully mouthy for a guy who's at my mercy." 

Tony's grin turns smug, and then he's pushing the panties down over his own hips. He takes his time, drawing out the action so that Steve gets a good eyeful. He steps out of the panties, hanging them from one finger as he knee walks up onto the bed, shuffling closer and closer until he can swing a leg over to straddle Steve. "But I know just how to shut you up." 

One more quick grin, and then Tony is shoving the lacy panties right into Steve's mouth. 

It startles a laugh out of him, which only makes his mouth open wider, and allows Tony to ball the panties up into his mouth. 

"There, now," Tony says, resting back on his haunches enough that Steve's erection is cradled in the crease of Tony's ass. "That's better, isn't it? I could hardly hear myself think." 

"Smartass," Steve says – or, he tries to say. It comes out muffled around the lace panties, and sounds more like " _Smuduf_." 

Tony knows what he's trying to say, though, and he laughs a little, proud of himself. 

Then he reaches for the bedside table, and picks up his phone. 

"Now, since you were too busy to look at the beautiful pictures I sent you today, you can take the time to look at them now." He taps a few keys on the phone, and then suddenly it's projecting his screen up on the ceiling, blowing the pictures up and showing them in their full glory. 

Tony taps on the first photo, the one Steve _had_ looked at. He slides his thumb across the screen slowly, flicking through a couple of pictures. Each seems to get even more pornographic than the last. In one, Tony has his cock pulled all the way out of his panties, stroking it. In the next, he's on the bed on all fours, with the panties pulled partially down onto his hips so that he can pull his buttocks apart and show the tight pucker between his cheeks. 

In the next photo, he's got the panties hanging off one ankle, and laying on his back with his legs up in the air, holding himself spread open by his knees. As Tony flicks through the photos, they get more and more risque. Steve can't help but be aroused by them, but he laughs at some of them as well, because every once in a while Tony had thrown in a ridiculous pose – in one of them he's hanging upside down from Steve's chin-up bar in their personal work out room. At least it hadn't been the communal gym. 

Tony is commenting on the photos as he flips through, too. "And here's me showing you the dick you can't suck because you're in a meeting… oh, and here's me showing you my ass, even though you can't have it because you're – yep, you guessed it – in a meeting…" 

Steve is laughing around the panties stuffed in his mouth, not even trying to push them out with his tongue. He probably could, easily, but where would be the fun in that? 

"Oh, wait! That's right, I sent you _voicemails_!" Tony remembers, tapping away at his phone. The projected photos on the ceiling disappear, and then Tony's voice comes out of the speakers around the room. 

_"Steve. Steve. Steve. Steve. Steve. Steeeeeeeve. Answer the phone. Steve, answer the phone. Leave your meeting, answer the phone. Come on, I'm booooooored."_

Steve rolls his eyes and gives Tony a glare, grinning around the panties in his mouth. 

"Oh, don't worry, it gets better," Tony says with a knowing smirk. The next voicemail plays. 

_"Steve? Oh, Steve, honey."_ Tony's voice through the speakers is breathy, down a register to sound sultry. _"Mm, Steve, baby, I want you so much. Mm, oh, yeah. Do you know what I'm doing right now, honey? I'm touching my cock. Wish it was you, baby. Mm. Your mouth, maybe. Feels so good around me, all hot and wet. Don't you wish you were here sucking me?"_

Steve's cock jumps – partly because of the sound of Tony's voice on the recording, hot and turned on and dirty. But partly because he can hear it, in the background of the message. The slick slide of Tony slowly stroking his cock, just like he'd said he was. 

"That's better, isn't it, baby?" Tony lies down beside Steve and sighs in his ear, letting his breath out hot and damp. "Don't you wish you'd answered your phone?" 

Steve just groans, tugging gently on one of the adamantium cuffs holding his wrists in place. 

Tony presses a feather light kiss to Steve's cheekbone as another voicemail starts to play. 

_"Mm, Steve, you bastard,"_ Tony's voice says, sounding strained and filthy. _"I wanna fuck you, baby. Bet you wanna feel my cock in you, don't you? Fuck, you always feel so good on my cock, you're so tight and hot. Wanna shove my dick in you, Steve. Wanna fuck you and fuck you until you're wrecked, just a sloppy, filthy mess on the bed, begging to come. Begging me to_ let _you come. Want that, baby? Do you? Well, honey, you can have it. You can have my cock, you just have to_ answer the fucking phone _."_

This time, Steve's laugh is a little more breathless, a little more strained. His cock pulses, a bead of pre-come gathering at the tip. 

Tony reaches down and wraps his hand around Steve's cock, palm hot and calloused. He brushes his thumb through the drop of fluid there, then brings it up to Steve's lips. Steve can't lick it off, he still has the panties in his mouth, but Tony just swipes his thumb over Steve's full, stretched bottom lip, coating it with his own pre-come. 

Steve groans, low in his throat, and tugs at the cuffs. 

"What do you think, honey? Have you learned your lesson?" 

Steve nods vigorously, moaning around the panties again as Tony surges up and straddles him, dropping his phone on the mattress beside them and wrapping his hand around his cock again. He shifts up so he's straddling Steve's chest, slowly stroking himself. His other hand finds its way to Steve's hair, gripping it securely, holding Steve's head exactly where he wants it. 

"I'm thinking nothing says 'sorry' like a good blowjob, Steve, don't you agree?" 

Steve's eyes flutter half-closed, and he crinkles his eyes to indicate a smile when he nods again. 

"You ready to apologize?" Tony asks him, tugging at the red lace in Steve's mouth. It comes out crumpled and damp, and Steve licks his lips. His mouth waters a little at the salty taste of himself on his bottom lip, which is good, because Tony doesn't give him a lot of time before he's shuffling forward again, getting up on his knees and guiding his cock down, pressing the head against Steve's lips. 

Steve opens his mouth and sucks. The angle isn't good for any kind of depth, but Steve does what he can – he sucks and licks and opens his jaw, tilts his head down, trying to give Tony as much of his mouth as he can. 

Tony moves his hips, giving shallow little thrusts between Steve's lips. Steve keeps his lips slack and soft, letting Tony guide their speed and just flicking his tongue around the head of Tony's cock when it's in his mouth. 

"That's good, Steve," Tony sighs. "That's real good." 

He lets Steve suck him a little while longer, and then he shimmies down Steve's body, crawling off him and down between his legs. Before he does anything else, though, he picks up the little lace panties he'd discarded beside Steve's body, crumples them back up and stuffs them back into Steve's mouth with a devilish grin. 

"Jarvis," Tony says then. He pushes Steve's legs apart, resting one of Steve's legs on his own shoulder and pushing the other out wide, but otherwise he ignores Steve. "Do me a favour and give Steve that slideshow again, will you? And go ahead and play the voicemails while I'm busy here." He turns back to Steve. "Wouldn't want you to get too bored, right?" 

Steve groans, but it chokes off into a low laugh as Jarvis does as requested. The slideshow of filthy sexual poses, of Tony in panties, appears on the ceiling again. Each picture is only up for a few seconds, but it's enough to rekindle Steve's arousal. 

Not that it had faded, of course. 

Then Tony's voice is coming out of the room's speakers again. Husky and breathy and rough; " _Do you know what I'm doing right now, honey? I'm touching my cock. Wish it was you, baby._ " 

There's a slick finger between his legs now, as Tony works lube over and into his puckered entrance. Steve groans, tries to relax, and flicks his eyes back and forth from the pictures on the ceiling and the sight in front of him – Tony focused on Steve's body, entranced as he works first one, then two slick fingers into Steve's hole. 

Steve moans a little at the stretch, but they've been together long enough that Tony knows what he can take. Knows that Steve likes a little bit of burn when Tony is opening him up. 

Another voicemail comes over the speakers. 

" _Fuck, Steve. I can't wait to fuck you, did I tell you that? Open up your pretty little hole. You're always so tight for me, honey. You always open up so pretty, though. Should put_ you _in panties for me, what do you think? Some sweet little sheer number. Fuck, imagine you in a teddy, honey. Those sweet tits of yours in a cute little baby doll? All that soft fabric sliding over your sensitive nipples? You'd fucking love it, wouldn't you?"_

Steve moans louder this time, panting through his nose even as the sound is muffled by the panties in his mouth. Tony breaches him with a third finger, and his other hand wraps itself around Steve's cock, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. 

"You want that, Steve?" Tony asks him in real time, voice low and rough like whisky. "Want to wear something pretty for me?" 

Steve imagines it. Some silly little lingerie, something made for a girl, and he'd be so big in it. It would stretch across his muscles and his shoulders and his chest, and it would be obscene. 

He nods fitfully, feeling his cheeks flame. 

Tony croons, rewards him with a tightened grip around Steve's cock. 

"How many times you wanna come tonight, honey?" Tony asks, then. "You want me to make you come now, and then fuck you when you're sensitive, when it hurts, until you come again?" 

Steve can't help it – he pulls at the cuffs around his wrists, whining around the panties in his mouth. Tony has a way of bringing this out in him, this submissive, wild, desperate animal. He does want that – wants Tony to fuck him and fuck him until he can't take it anymore. Wants Tony to come in him, to make him slick and wet and filthy, to keep fucking him and using him until they both collapse. 

"I don't know if I can wait," Tony mutters, curling his slick fingers inside Steve, pressing them against his prostate. "I've been waiting all day, after all." 

He leans forward, over Steve's torso. The action bends Steve's leg up, up, up, until he's almost folded in half, and Tony has to let go of Steve's cock to support himself, but he leans all the way anyway. He tilts his head to the side and presses a soft, gentle kiss to Steve's lip, the bottom one, that's stretched out around the lace fabric. 

"Yeah," Tony says, thoughtfully. "I've waited long enough, don't you think?" 

Even as he says the words, he's pulling his fingers free and replacing them with the blunt head of his cock, pushing in steady and fast. 

Steve can't help it – he throws his head back and howls, cheeks heating when the sound is still muffled by the panties. Tony instantly sets a quick rhythm. He pushes all the way in until his hips are pressed tight against Steve's ass, and then he pulls back almost all the way, until just the head is still inside Steve, stretching his rim wide around it. Then he pushes in again, thrusting forward and evenly paced. 

Tony's cock is putting constant pressure on Steve's prostate; it always does when they're in this position, with one of Steve's legs up over Tony's shoulder. Steve whines at how good it is, at the continuous pleasure, at the feeling of Tony fucking in and out of him. 

"Thought about fucking you all day," Tony says, the words broken and choppy as he fucks hard and fast. Steve cries out, already so close he can barely stand it. "Thought about how needy you'd get, looking at all my pictures. Can't – oh, fuck, honey, you're so tight – can't last long like this, can you, baby? Me either, muffin – you go ahead and come when you're ready, okay?" 

Steve's moans are short and fast now as he cries out with each thrust, and Tony's not laying a hand on his cock but like this Steve doesn't need him to. Tony usually needs more, he can't come just from being fucked alone, but Steve can – and, fuck, he's going to – 

The pleasure rushes over him suddenly, a wave of white noise and darkened vision as his whole body tenses. His ass clenches, making him that much tighter for Tony, and Steve revels in the sound of shocked pleasure that Tony gives then. Steve's balls are pulsing, his cock jerking in the air and spilling come all over his belly. It's pulsing out of him; this kind of orgasm, coming untouched like this, is always more intense, but it's always less explosive. His whole body convulses, his cries raise in pitch, and he shivers, writhing in pleasure. 

Tony is fucking him harder, grinding and thrusting wildly, which means he's about to come, too. Steve barely has his wits about him, but he does what he can to help Tony along, wrapping one leg back around Tony's hips to pull him in, still keening and shuddering through the orgasm that seems to last forever. 

He's dimly aware of the hot rush of come inside him, of Tony's own shouts. He can feel Tony pulsing and twitching inside him, and each sensation is just the right side of too much. He can't stop jerking, his whole body still thrumming from it. 

Tony slows before he stops, still fucking into Steve for as long as his cock stays hard. Steve squeezes his eyes closed, sure there must be tears leaking out the sides, but Tony will know it's just from the overstimulation – the wild pleasure that isn't over yet. 

"Good, honey, that's good," Tony pants, finally stopping but not pulling out yet. Steve can feel Tony's come dribbling down the crack of his ass, and it makes him shiver again. "You're so good for me." 

Steve whines at the praise, but he still can't seem to make his mouth form words. He moans a little, hoping Tony will understand his gratitude, his love. 

Tony pulls out carefully, gently lifting Steve's leg off his shoulder and placing it on the bed. He crawls up beside Steve's heaving body, still wracked with the odd twitch, and unlatches the cuffs on his wrists, then carefully pulls the ruined panties from Steve's mouth and presses a hot, wet kiss there. 

Steve returns it with as much energy as he can muster, but even then it's sloppy and rough. Tony lets out a rough, low chuckle and pulls back, gathering Steve against his chest as he lays back on the bed. 

"I am never going to get tired of that," Tony whispers into his hair. "I love you, honey." 

"Love you, too," Steve mumbles into Tony's skin, staring at the cool blue light of the arc reactor in his chest. 

Tony reaches over for a package of wet wipes from the night stand, uses one to quickly wipe the come off Steve's belly. He can't reach Steve's hole to clean him there, but Steve doesn't mind. He likes having Tony's come in him for a little while. 

Tony snorts, and Steve realizes he must have said that out loud. 

"Okay, honey," Tony says, pressing a kiss into Steve's hair. "Have a little sleep, we'll get up and shower in a little bit." 

"Sorry 'm so useless after I come," Steve mumbles, limbs and eyelids heavy. 

"Mm, no, honey, you're just fine. I like you like this. All soft and wrecked." Tony twists his head so he can kiss Steve's mouth again, and Steve mostly stays slack and lets him. "You're perfect like this." 

Steve snuggles closer into Tony's chest, throwing one heavy leg over Tony's and closing his eyes. 

"Next time you'd better answer your phone, though," Tony warns, chuckling. 

"Not a chance," Steve tells him, smiling a little dopily at Tony's laugh. 

END 


End file.
